Vyvyan's Drunken Ramble
by Special Patrol Groupie
Summary: Vyvyan is so drunk he'll even talk to Rick. Rating mostly for liberal use of "F" bombs, with hints of slashiness.


VYVYAN'S DRUNKEN RAMBLE No. 1

A/N: First in a series. All in the first person.

FUCKING HELL! What just stepped on my back? Oh, s'you, Rick.

Rick.

Rick.

Ricky.

Ricky. Ricky. Ricky. Ricky. Ricky, you fuckin' bastard, c'mere. Yeah, you. Anyone else named Ricky round here? Don't think so. S'Mikey an' Neil an' SGP, an you're Ricky, ain't you?

Yeah, c'mere, Ricky, you come downstairs in middle of th'night on Saturday or whatever the fuck day it is and you don't turn on the fuckin' light and you trip right over me lyin' in the kitchen cos I fell down and can't be fucked to move, and you trip over me and scream like a girl, you're lucky I'm in such a good mood – yeah, I've been out drinking, how could ye tell? I had about ten pints at the Kebab an'Calc'lat'r, and then went to some mates' and broke into their stash of vodka and drank that, yeah ...

Ricky, don' be scairt, you're not so bad. You're OK, Ricky. You know that, Ricky? You're not so bad. You're a bit girly but if you wanna know the truth, so's evry bloke y'meet. Even me. No, don't lookit me like that, I'm not gonna try t'snog you, ha ha ha! Ain't 'nuff alk'hol in th'world fer that. I'm not that kinda girly! I jus' mean I get 'motional sm'times. Yeah. Yeah.

Lissin Ricky, siddown – no, nex't'me, here on th'floor. Don' think I can get up, ha ha ha! Siddown here cos I wanna tell yer something impotent. Imported. Important. Whatever, don't wanna shout it cross the room. Siddown! Wait, get me a can of Heineken first. Aw, thanks, Ricky, you're not half bad for a pompous asinine fucked up stuckup sociologist. ... damn, fuckin' top won't open ... huh? Oh, cos it's upsidedown? Aw shiiiiiiiit, I'm drunk, you open it.

Yeah, so lissen, Ricky, I was was walking home from the tube station right and I saw a whole bunsh of p'lice standing round a house – yeah, they're fasc ... fash ... fashionistas, yeah, what the fuck ever, you're hung up on the p'lice and I'm not, and I'm the one who's been beaten up by them sometimes. Anyway. I saw a bobby who'd broken up a fight I was in once, and I asked what was goin on and he said that some bloke had been holed up in the house with ammo and guns and all this shit, wanted for shootin at his old girlfriend, and shootin at them every so often, then he finally stopped, and they got in the house and he was dead, shot, not sure who did it, if he shot hisself or if one of the bobbies did I mean, and I said what a tit, and he said yeah, bloody idjit, and I kept on walking but was like what the fuck, I used to be jealous of people who knew when it was time to get up, give up, whatever an' went out with glory like that, standing up to the bastards who arent the plice, Ricky, but the fuckers who pay them and run the country people like your dad, Ricky, the cops are just the foot soldiers, Ricky. Swhy I don't call bobbies fashists. That's what I don' like 'bout you, Ricky. You been sucking fashist tit all your overprivlgd life, Ricky, you sodding cunt, and you aren't even grateful for it, are you, Ricky, you piss on yer dad and his friends and try to make us think yer hard and working class, well, Ricky, you wouldn't have survived ten seconds in my life, yer tit!

But you're still all right. Ricky. Ricky. Ricky. Ricky, you're OK. Maybe you just feel bad or something. I dunno. Ya don't like wha you are but ya dunno how t'be something else. Ricky. Ricky. Fuck, where's the lager? Oh, in my hand. Ha ha ha! Ricky. Ricky. Ricky. Lissen, I was walking home from the – oh, said that already, didn't I? So after they carry out th'body, I'm walking home right an thinking bout the other day when oh I didn't tell you about that, or anyone, right, I don't tell you a tenth of the shit that happens in my life, why should I? You woodint unnerstan' it. Even Mike woodint get i'tall. So why'm I tellin' you now? Fuck, I'm drunk, I dunno. Gotta tell somebody!

I was wandering around early one morning when I couldn't sleep, and this little kid's'lying in th street, and poor kid's been run over by some kid on a scooter, leg is broken in about three places and he'screaming a'nobody knew what to do but I got him calmed down and got his leg splinted up and the ambulance arrived an the kid asks what my name is an'I say Vyvyan and he says Dr. Vyvyan and anyway, his mum found me at the college and asked me to come see her kid an he was all Dr. Vyvyan this and Dr. Vyvyan that and he wanted to be a doctor too like me, and I thought it was nice but kinda little kid bullshit, only when I was the same age I met a doctor who was like that to me, like God or Superman or Dad, and I remembered that's when I wanted to be a doctor, when I was still young enough not to have all my ideals fucked away by the whole fucking world, but here I am, med school, and I'm going t'see practice, real people, an'I might be able to make them better, an'I might be able to help them, v'never been able to help someone before, Ricky, never, and it felt weird now being the helper, Ricky, you know, or maybe you don't, what does a sociologist do except watch an'talk, that's all you ever do, watch an'talk, but maybe that's just as well, ha ha ha! Naaaah, Ricky, you're all right, you lazy-eyed freak, you'd be good looking if you had a totally different hairstyle and someone else's face an'eyes an'all that. Ha ha ha!

But Ricky, I was just thinking about that and the guy who got shot, he could have learned how to help people, he could have learned how to care ... is that what's happening to me? Spent all my damn life learning how not to care bout me or anyone else, getting hard and tough so I didn't feel the pain when Mum calls me zit-face and ugly and kicks me in the knackers, literally and figuratively, and now I have to soften up inside at least so I care enough to really help 'em, and I can only do it when I'm so drunk I think you're a good guy, ha ha ha! Too bad you're not a real girl, biologically, or I might be tempted to sneak into your room and snog you ... don' worry about it, Ricky, never gonna happen, but if you were a girl I'd fuck you through the mattress and the floor into the kitchen, and through the kitchen floor into the basement, and you'd scream my name and ... fucking good thing I'm too drunk to remember any of this, huh?


End file.
